


A Beginning Bond

by Jinnamorata



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Corporal Punishment, Discipline, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-01
Updated: 2013-06-01
Packaged: 2017-12-13 15:20:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/825824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jinnamorata/pseuds/Jinnamorata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a universe where physical punishment of padawans is common and padawan learners are adopted early, seven-year-old Obi-Wan gets his first spanking from his master, Qui-Gon Jinn.  The ordeal brings them closer together as master and padawan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Beginning Bond

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seaholly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seaholly/gifts), [Rightundermyskin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rightundermyskin/gifts).



> This story contains the moderate disciplinary spanking of a child. If that upsets you, then move along. (Move along . . . move along . . .) Also--there was an interview at one point with George Lucas, in which he stated that young Jedi learners were placed with Masters at about age seven. I found this too adorable to resist, and so have ignored book canon.

Qui-Gon had played the ball game with the little boy for over an hour, watching how seven-year-old Obi-Wan caught the big red toy with the Force, and effortlessly redirected it into one of the painted squares surrounding him on the crèche playground. It was yet another test, of sorts, but Obi-Wan didn’t seem to notice. The child was pink-cheeked and giggling as he tried again and again to knock the Master Jedi “out.” Sometimes, Qui-Gon let himself be too slow. He didn’t really think that it was wise to encourage the attitude that winning was desirable in itself, but then, it wouldn’t do to frustrate a child this young, either.

Fortunately, Obi-Wan seemed to take both win and loss in stride, focusing more on the skill of the game itself, and most probably, on the unusual undivided attention he was getting. Qui-Gon found himself smiling as the boy accidentally bounced the ball off his own foot, made a sound that was half-laugh, half-exasperated noise, and then ran to go retrieve it from where it bounced close to one of the brightly-painted duracrete walls. 

This was the little boy he’d been strongly encouraged by the Council to take on as his new padawan. They’d been through three days of testing together, some tests rigorous, some playful, and Qui-Gon had to admit that Obi-Wan had met or exceeded his expectations each time. Someday, this little one would be a great Jedi Knight. Qui-Gon was not a man who focused unduly on the future, but he felt certain it was true. He would feel honored to take this boy on as his padawan learner. 

All that remained was to ask Obi-Wan what he thought about becoming Qui-Gon’s apprentice. The trick would be to create an accurate picture in the child’s mind about what that might be like, both fun and not-so-fun. At the moment, Obi-Wan’s seven-year-old brain would doubtless be full of playing games, which he and Qui-Gon had done a lot of over the past days. However, the two of them could hardly play all the time. 

When Obi-Wan came running breathlessly back with the ball, Qui-Gon motioned for him to put it down. Obi-Wan obeyed, still grinning, but seeming glad, for once, of the chance to rest. “Obi-Wan, I need to talk to you,” Qui-Gon said. He sat down on a low wall and reached out to take both of the boy’s small hands.

“Yes, Master Qui-Gon?” Obi-Wan answered eagerly. One of his front adult teeth hadn’t come in all the way, and he spoke with a slight lisp. Force, but he was a cute little fellow. It was going to be hard to see the smile disappear from his face as Qui-Gon laid out the reality of what becoming a padawan learner meant—in terms that would make sense to a seven-year-old. 

“We’ve had a good time today, haven’t we?” Qui-Gon asked. 

Obi-Wan nodded emphatically. “Yes, Master! Thank you for playing with me!”

Qui-Gon smiled and fondly tucked the child’s short braid behind his ear. “I’ve enjoyed playing with you,” he said. “You’re a good boy. You’re clever and honest, and you work hard when it’s time to study. I’ve quite liked your company, and I wish we could play together all the time. But you know that’s not possible.”

Obi-Wan’s expression fell. “Yes. You’ll have to go on a mission and leave.” 

The boy suddenly looked so sad that Qui-Gon was momentarily taken aback. Had Obi-Wan bonded with him so strongly in such a short period of time? Perhaps he had. And perhaps, Qui-Gon reflected as he smoothed back the child’s soft-spiky hair, he had already bonded with Obi-Wan strongly too. It certainly pained him to see the little boy unhappy. Maybe it was the will of the Force that the two of them click together like magnets. 

“Well. You’re right that I’ll have to leave on a mission sooner or later, but I won’t necessarily have to leave you behind. Obi-Wan, I would like to take you on as my padawan learner. You have shown yourself to be a good student, and I’m sure you will one day be a fine Jedi Knight. However--” he held out one finger in caution, as Obi-Wan jumped up and squawked with delight. “Listen, little one. Listen. It won’t be all playing and games. I shall have high expectations for your behavior, and there will be many new rules for you to learn. Some of them won’t be any fun for you.”

“I’ll be good, Master Qui-Gon!” the child exclaimed, giving him a spontaneous hug around the neck. “I’ll be so, so good . . .” 

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon chided gently, even as he hugged the boy back, “it has nothing to do with you being ‘good.’ I believe you are a genuinely good boy. However, you’re a very new student of the Force, and sometimes you’ll make mistakes. Sometimes, I’ll have to teach you a lesson. I want you to understand this.” He gently but firmly pulled back from Obi-Wan’s grip, and looked him in his wide, sea-blue eyes. “There are less strict masters in the Jedi Order than I am. You might do very well studying with one of them. It might be easier for you. If you choose to become my apprentice, it means committing to an often-difficult life of work, study, obedience, and discipline—not just now, when you’re a little boy, but for many years, until you become a Jedi knight. Do you understand?”

Obi-Wan nodded, looking very somber. “I want to stay with you,” he said. 

Qui-Gon couldn’t help but smile. “You’ve decided you like me that much already, have you?”

“I love you,” Obi-Wan said earnestly. 

Much as Qui-Gon wanted to stay serious and stern, in the face of that declaration he just couldn’t do it. He hugged Obi-Wan again and said, “Bravely and honestly stated, little one. And I am coming to love you. But you really must understand--”

“It’s all right if you spank me when I’m bad,” Obi-Wan cut in, almost casually. “My crèche masters already spank me when I’m bad. I won’t get mad at you.”

“You might,” Qui-Gon said. “I doubt that all my decisions will seem fair to you. And I am sure that you’re never bad. Stubborn, your crèche masters tell me, mischievous, disobedient at times, yes, but not bad.” 

“Sometimes I am,” Obi-Wan said quietly and very sadly, almost in Qui-Gon’s ear. The master Jedi supposed that Obi-Wan, in his own way, also felt it was only fair to discuss things about himself that would be less than fun. Still, he couldn’t let the self-accusation go.

Qui-Gon sat back from the embrace, and rested both his hands on Obi-Wan’s shoulders. “No,” he said firmly. “At times your decisions may be bad, and your behavior inappropriate. But you, Obi-Wan, are not bad. I would never consider taking a bad child as my padawan learner. Do you understand?”

Obi-Wan looked up at him, scanning his eyes and hopefully reading the seriousness there. Finally he nodded slowly. 

“Very good,” Qui-Gon said. “I’ll remind you if you have a hard time remembering. Even if I have to discipline you sometimes, you will still be a good boy. Only good people benefit from discipline, after all. A truly bad person would simply retaliate, and refuse to learn.” 

Obi-Wan nodded again, very seriously, and then asked, “What does ‘retaliate’ mean?”

“It means to take revenge on someone. To want to strike back at them and hurt them.”

“That would be bad,” Obi-Wan agreed. 

“Now that we understand each other about your being a good young man, I want to tell you about the two most important rules that I have for my students,” Qui-Gon said, looking steadily into Obi-Wan’s eyes. “The first rule is that you stay safe. And the second rule is that you must be obedient, even when you don’t understand, and even when it doesn’t seem fair. Doing what I tell you, when I tell you, is what will keep you safe. The wider galaxy isn’t all like the Temple, Obi-Wan. Sometimes there will be dangers that I don’t have time to explain in the moment. So when I tell you to do something, or not to do something, I expect that you will obey, without hesitation and without questioning. If I can explain my reasoning to you, I will. But sometimes you must wait for your explanation. Does that make sense?”

Obi-Wan nodded.

“What’s more, you are to obey your other teachers and caregivers as you would me. I don’t want to hear reports that my padawan is behaving badly when I’m not around. Understood?”

“Understood, Master Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan said. The little boy truly seemed to be taking the lesson in, but no conversation about rules would be complete without a discussion of consequences, unpleasant as it might be. 

“Now, you’ve mentioned what happens when you disobey your crèche masters,” Qui-Gon said.

“I get paddled,” Obi-Wan answered promptly. 

“Well, I don’t usually paddle seven-year-olds,” Qui-Gon said. But before Obi-Wan could celebrate, he added, “If a padawan of that age in my care disobeys or otherwise misbehaves, I spank him or her, on the bare bottom, with my hand.” He held up one big, saber-callused hand, and allowed Obi-Wan to inspect it. The child’s solemn expression suggested that he was suitably impressed. 

“If I have to spank you in this way, it will hurt quite a bit. You’ll cry and wish you had behaved yourself. You may also have to stand in the corner and think about why you’ve been punished,” Qui-Gon warned him. “But once the punishment is over, I’ll comfort you and forgive you, just the way your crèche masters do. I’ll make sure you understand that the spanking was to teach you, not to hurt you. Does that make sense?”

Obi-Wan nodded twice, his eyes wide and serious. 

“Do you think you can live with my rules and discipline?” Qui-Gon asked.

“Yes, Master Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan said promptly.

“You’re sure?” Qui-Gon took both the little boy’s hands again and held them, looking steadily into his eyes. 

Obi-Wan nodded twice more. 

“I’ll tell the crèche masters and the Council then,” Qui-Gon said, fondly gathering the child into his lap. 

Obi-Wan gave a delighted cry and hugged him back hard. 

****  
The next time Qui-Gon had to discuss discipline with Obi-Wan was that night, after the child had been sworn to him, and had had his things moved from the crèche to the small two-bedroom apartment where they would live while Obi-Wan adjusted to his new padawan life. 

Flushed with a cross between giddy excitement and the anxiety that came with any life-altering change, the little boy was running from one end of the apartment to the other, slapping the wall at each end as if he were completing a lap of a race. 

“Walk while you’re inside, padawan,” Qui-Gon said firmly.

“Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan answered, but proceeded to careen off the wall anyway.

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said, with a new sharpness in his voice. “Did we not have a conversation about you obeying me immediately, the first time you were told?”

That brought the boy up short, and he looked down, fidgeting unhappily with his tunic hem. “Yes, Master. Sorry, Master.”

“Show me how a padawan learner should move about when he’s indoors,” Qui-Gon said.

Obi-Wan took a few walking steps, and glanced up at Qui-Gon for approval. He seemed relieved when the master Jedi nodded. “Keep going,” Qui-Gon said. “Practice is important, because when the time comes that much is riding on your actions, you will find yourself immediately behaving in the way you have practiced most. You and I will be going on diplomatic missions, on which manners matter very much. I certainly can’t stop important negotiations to tell my padawan that he mustn’t run while he is indoors.”

“Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan said, sounding much subdued. 

Qui-Gon let him walk from one end of the apartment to the other a few times before calling him over. “Much better,” he said, patting Obi-Wan on the shoulder. “We’ve practiced quite a few things today, haven’t we?”

Obi-Wan nodded, then seemed to remember something else they’d practiced—the courtesy of answering verbally rather than simply making a gesture. “Yes, Master.” 

“It’s a lot to learn, but you’ve been doing very well,” Qui-Gon assured him.

“I’m glad, Master. I want to do well,” Obi-Wan said earnestly.

Newly-awoken hero worship shone so brightly from the boy’s eyes that Qui-Gon considered putting the next lesson off, since it would no doubt upset Obi-Wan. However, discipline was going to be a critical part of their relationship, and he wouldn’t really be doing either of them a favor by leaving his padawan uninstructed any longer.

“Listen, little one. I have something more to teach you,” Qui-Gon told him. 

“What is it, Master?” Obi-Wan asked, sounding excited.

“We need to have you practice taking a spanking. It won’t be like it was in the crèche,” Qui-Gon said.

Obi-Wan looked stricken. “For running?” he asked wretchedly. 

“No, not for running. Your only consequence for running was to practice walking, as a padawan should. This will just be a practice spanking. I don’t want to wait until you’ve seriously misbehaved before I show you what I expect of you. When I must spank you in earnest you’ll be upset, and it will be a poor time to teach you something new. I’d rather have you learn now, so you can fall back on your experience when it’s truly time to teach you a lesson.”

“So it won’t hurt?” Obi-Wan asked skeptically. 

“Not this time, no. It’s just for practice.”

“All right,” Obi-Wan said unhappily. 

The boy’s consent wasn’t really necessary, but it meant something that he had given it. “Thank you for your trust, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said.

Obi-Wan nodded once, and then added, “Yes, Master.”

Qui-Gon began: “When I have to punish you, Obi-Wan, I’ll sit down and call you over to stand here.” He pointed to the spot on the carpet right next to his feet. “I’ll want you to the right of me, so just like this.” He put his hands on Obi-Wan’s shoulders and moved him over to the precise spot he’d pointed to.

“There. Next I’ll say, ‘Obi-Wan, bare your bottom and bend over my lap.’ That means to take down your pants and underwear too. Then I’ll lift your tunic for you.” The child looked up at him with huge, alarmed eyes. 

“You don’t need to bare yourself this time,” Qui-Gon assured him, and was rewarded with a look of relief. Apparently Obi-Wan had a keen sense of dignity, even in front of the man he’d decided he adored. 

When he hesitated to bend over, however, Qui-Gon gave him a light, nudging-along pat on the behind. “Well, go on,” he said. 

Obi-Wan reluctantly obeyed, and Qui-Gon smoothed back the flap of his tunic, exposing the seat of Obi-Wan’s trousers. He and rested his left hand on the boy’s back. It was part comforting touch, and part restraint. “There. That’s the position you’ll be in when you are punished. Now. When you get a spanking, I expect you not to speak unless you’re spoken to. That means that you can cry, or say ‘Ouch,’ but no other words should come out of your mouth. Not unless I ask you a direct question. If I do, you may say, ‘Yes, Master,’ or ‘No, Master,’ or other words if they’re needed to answer me. But you’re not to speak at all if I don’t ask you a question first. We’re going to practice that now. Do you understand what I expect of you?”

“I understand, Master,” Obi-Wan said. He sounded as if he did, although he seemed unhappy about it.

“This will be different from the crèche. When I visited you there, I heard children trying to argue with the adults who were disciplining them. That might have been considered all right for very little boys and girls, but you’re a padawan learner now, and it will not be allowed. Talking back in that way will earn you extra spanks. Understood?”

“Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan said, his voice slightly muffled since he was facing the floor. 

“Well answered,” Qui-Gon said, and patted him on the back again. Even taking a practice spanking was unpleasant, and not speaking until he was spoken to was a new and frustrating rule. Yet the boy had been appropriately compliant so far, and some praise and reassurance were due him. Obi-Wan responded by catching hold of Qui-Gon’s pant leg, as if wordlessly asking for kindness in the midst of a difficult lesson. Qui-Gon rubbed his back with his big, warm hand, and he felt Obi-Wan relax a little. 

“While you’re over my lap, I’ll ask you if you understand why you’re being punished, and to describe what you did that was wrong. I want to make very sure you know the lesson you’re meant to learn, so you understand which misbehavior you’re not to repeat. Understanding is the difference between teaching, and hurting, and I never intend to hurt you, my padawan. If you ever find you do not understand the reason for a punishment, you must tell me immediately. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan said again, still hanging on to the cloth of Qui-Gon’s trousers. 

“Once we’ve talked about why you’re being punished, you’ll get your spanking. Just as we discussed on the playground, it will be with my hand on your bare bottom. You’ll be unhappy, you’ll cry, and once it’s over I’ll comfort you.” He gave Obi-Wan an affectionate pat on the bottom in lieu of a spank, and then put his hand on his shoulder and lifted, encouraging him to get up from his position over his lap. Once the boy was standing, Qui-Gon turned him around and planted him bottom-down, on top of his knees. The child dropped down with a mere touch, as if eager to be held.

Qui-Gon hugged the boy as if a real spanking had taken place—it only seemed fair to practice that too. Obi-Wan hugged him back hard. “There, now. Good boy. You’re being very obedient, and you’re doing a good job with not speaking until you’re spoken to, even though the lesson is upsetting.”

“I want to do a good job, Master Qui-Gon!” Obi-Wan said. Then he clapped his hand over his mouth, and said, “I mean, yes, Master! I mean . . .”

Qui-Gon couldn’t help chuckling. “Difficult, isn’t it, sticking to ‘yes master’ and ‘no master?’ Don’t worry--you won’t get in more trouble for slips while you’re still learning. It’s disobedient backtalk that will get you punished.” When Obi-Wan looked confused about whether he was supposed to answer, Qui-Gon told him, “You may respond to that, little one. You may answer questions, and acknowledge that I’ve spoken to you. Do you understand a little better now?” 

“Yes, Master, I do,” Obi-Wan said.

Qui-Gon decided it was time to get the practice punishment over with, and to let the child get back to his games. 

He gave Obi-Wan another squeeze and said, “All right, it’s time to come over here and stand in the corner. Time in the corner will always follow a spanking, after you’ve calmed down enough to stand and think.”

“Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan said. He slid off Qui-Gon’s lap and followed him over to the corner. The master Jedi put his hands on the boy’s shoulders, turning him so that he faced the meeting of the walls. “Once you’re here, I’ll ask you to think about what you can do to behave better next time,” Qui-Gon said. “During a real punishment it’ll be between five and ten minutes, but now just take a minute or two to think about what punishment as a padawan learner will be like. I’ll call you when it’s time to turn around.” 

“Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan said, nodding obediently. 

Qui-Gon walked quietly over to the sofa and sat down softly, not wanting to interrupt his padawan’s thinking time. He quietly untucked a chrono that he kept in his belt and watched the numbers spin up to two minutes. 

“Come here, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said finally.

“Yes, Master?” the boy said, scrambling to his side. 

“You’ve done very well. This was not a pleasant lesson, and I’m proud of you for doing your best to learn and obey.” 

Obi-Wan beamed at him. Qui-Gon cupped the side of his face with his hand and looked at him fondly. There were less-experienced teachers in the Temple who would not have believed it was possible to get a running, jittery little boy to hold still for two minutes and think, practice punishment or not. Qui-Gon was glad that Obi-Wan wasn’t in the care of any of those teachers. 

“During a real punishment, the last part will be for you to tell me how you’re going to do better next time, but that’s not necessary for you now. We’ll have that conversation when we come to it. All I need to know now if if you understand how a padawan learner is disciplined,” Qui-Gon asked. 

Obi-Wan nodded, his expression turning somber. “Yes, Master.” 

“Very good. You’re allowed to speak freely now,” Qui-Gon told him.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and exclaimed, “Thank you! That was so hard!” 

“It’ll get easier as you practice,”Qui-Gon assured him. 

“I’ll be very good, and not have to practice,” Obi-Wan said. 

Qui-Gon rather doubted that—the notes from the boy’s crèche masters had said he’d been paddled the previous night for stubbornly refusing to go to bed on time. He wasn’t about to shame the child with the remembrance, though. “Never having to practice would be even better,” was all he said about the matter. “Now, up you get, and go play while the sun is out. Just remember—no running indoors.” 

“Yes, Master!” Obi-Wan called out, and nearly ran for the far side of the room. He brought himself up short, however, and shot a nervous glance toward Qui-Gon. The Master Jedi gave him a steady but not-unkind look as the child walked off to unpack his toys. 

Yes, Obi-Wan was indeed learning.

****  
It was over a week later before Qui-Gon had to call on Obi-Wan’s experience of how to be spanked.

The Master Jedi was sitting in a diplomatic meeting with several members of the Council when his comm flashed. Given its yellow-code priority, he could have ignored it, but he recognized the comm code as belonging to Obi-Wan’s saber master.

Worried, he took his leave of the other Jedi and walked to a corner. “Jinn here,” he said to the little round grid on his palm. A translucent blue image of Master Ru Ghawar, a near-human Jedi with enormous black eyes, appeared over the circular comm pad. 

“Master Jinn, I apologize for disturbing you . . .” began Ghawar, bowing his head slightly.

“Please don’t apologize, Master. I assume this is about Obi-Wan? Is he all right?” Qui-Gon asked.

“He has a training saber burn on his left wrist,” Master Ghawar said apologetically. “It’s nothing serious, but I’m afraid he defied me and my assistant by sparring with another boy during saber class.” 

Qui-Gon felt his lips press together grimly. It might appear to be a small mistake to get carried away during saber training, but the potential results were too dangerous to be tolerated. Obi-Wan already had a minor injury from playing with children’s blades. If he’d been older, with a more serious weapon, the consequences could have been mutilation, or even death. 

“Have you disciplined him?” Qui-Gon asked.

“My assistant Docent Lidan gave him six swats with her hand on his trouser seat, and sat him in the corner. The other boy got the same,” Master Ghawar said. 

“Good. Thank you, Master Ghawar,” Qui-Gon said. The more adults who showed disapproval of Obi-Wan’s actions, the more easily the boy would learn. 

“I shall be there shortly. Let Obi-Wan know I’m coming . . . and that correction will follow,” Qui-Gon said. 

“Very good, Master Jinn,” said Master Ghawar, and then his image disappeared. 

****  
Obi-Wan was sitting on his sore bottom, his legs folded under him on the floor and his nose turned toward the corner of the gym. He was in big trouble, and he knew it. The burn on his left wrist was a little thing, smaller than a credit piece, ovoid and slightly blistered. It had already been daubed with bacta and loosely bandaged, and it barely hurt at all. 

Unfortunately, the same was not going to be true for the spanking he was sure he was in for. He’d been punished in saber class before, but never quite like this. Punishment from one of the saber masters had always meant he was going back to the crèche for a sharp, stinging paddling, and then forgiveness. It was usually over very quickly. He’d never had to wait and wait until his disciplinarian showed up to confront him before. He’d also never really gotten in trouble with Qui-Gon before.

What would the master Jedi say? Would he be very angry? Would he change his mind about whether Obi-Wan was a good boy, and regret taking him on as a padawan learner? Just the thought of that possibility brought stinging tears to the boy’s eyes. He had come to truly love his teacher in a very short amount of time, and the thought of disappointing him was heartbreaking. 

Just then, Master Ghawar leaned out of the little office area at the corner of the empty gym and said, “Your master is on his way down, Obi-Wan. He says that when he gets here, you will be corrected.” 

The news wasn’t surprising, but it still caused tears to spill over onto Obi-Wan’s cheeks. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be talking while he was in the corner, but he couldn’t help calling over his shoulder, “Did he seem mad, Master Ghawar?”

“Face the corner please, Obi-Wan. No talking,” the little black-eyed master reminded him.

“But did he--”

“Obi-Wan,” Master Ghawar said more sternly, “I would hate to have to tell your master that I had to spank you again for disobedience after you’d already misbehaved.”

Obi-Wan quickly turned and faced the corner again, shifting slightly as he tried to find a comfortable way to sit. He cried quietly to himself and silently resented not being able to speak. It wasn’t as though he was fighting being punished for what he’d done. He’d known what he was doing was forbidden as soon as he and his friend Yaron had begun to play with their saber blades, but he’d meant it to be a single high-spirited moment. Somehow he’d gotten carried away, however, and then he’d been burned. Even still, it was only after the two of them had been scolded and spanked that it had come home to him how big a rule they had broken. 

In fact, Master Qui-Gon had told him that first day on the playground that he only had two big rules—that Obi-Wan stay safe, and that he be obedient. Obi-Wan had managed to break both in one afternoon. He felt awful about it and believed he deserved a severe spanking. But why wouldn’t Master Ghawar let him ask how angry Qui-Gon was? It was Qui-Gon’s possible rejection, and not the inevitable spanking, that was frightening Obi-Wan so much. What’s more, he feared that when Qui-Gon arrived, he would immediately order him not to speak until spoken to, and leave him in anxiety that much longer. 

The child huddled up into a ball and wept.

 

****  
When Qui-Gon reached the gym, he found his little padawan sitting alone in the corner, curled up around himself, and sobbing softly into his hands. It was all Qui-Gon could do not to go scoop the child up and comfort him on the spot. It had been a long time since he’d had a small apprentice, and he’d forgotten how hard it could be to discipline one.

Forcing himself to be stern, if still compassionate, he asked, “Obi-Wan?”

The child jumped as if he’d just been given another spank. Once he turned and saw his master, he moved as if to get up and run to him. At the last moment he seemed to remember he wasn’t supposed to leave the corner, however, and plunked back down onto what his facial expression suggested was a rather sore bottom. “I’m sorry, Master. I’m so sorry . . . please don’t be angry at me,” he pleaded tearfully. 

Qui-Gon raised his eyebrow at the boy and folded his hands inside his cloak sleeves. It was not part of his discipline protocol to offer comfort until a promised spanking was over. Yet as things were, he reminded himself, he was dealing with a remorseful seven-year-old, who had never been punished by him before. He decided that some soothing was appropriate. He walked up to the boy and took his hand, raising him from the floor. Obi-Wan responded by wrapping his arms around Qui-Gon’s waist and crying harder.

The master Jedi ran his hand over the child’s hair and patted him on the back. “There, now, Obi-Wan. There, there. You made a mistake and you’re going to be punished for it, but it’s not the end of the world. All children make mistakes sometimes.”

Obi-Wan took a hitching breath and said, “You mean . . . you mean you’re not mad?” He released his teacher long enough to lean back and look up at him, tearful blue eyes gazing into compassionate ones. 

“I’m disappointed by what you did,” Qui-Gon said, “I was certainly hoping you knew better. But I am not angry at you as a person, my padawan. You are still a good boy. You just need a lesson, and that you shall have. I’m going to give you a sound spanking for your misbehavior today.” 

“Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan said, actually sounding relieved that it was only his bottom that was going to suffer. 

“Let’s take a look at that burn,” Qui-Gon said, and examined Obi-Wan’s left wrist. He gently pulled back the soft bandaging material so he could see the injury, and was satisfied that it was not serious and had been well-treated. “Now you understand why lightsabers, even training ones, aren’t toys,” he said sternly, looking Obi-Wan in the eye. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what would have happened if that were a live blade.”

“No, Master,” the boy said, using his sleeves to wipe at the tear-tracks on his cheeks. He seemed calmer now that he knew Qui-Gon wasn’t angry with him. “I’m sorry, Master,” he said again.

“I certainly hope you are,” Qui-Gon told him. He planted his hands on his hips and looked down at the child, exhaling softly. He really didn’t want to have to punish Obi-Wan. But what was he to do? He’d as much as promised him a bare-bottom spanking for behavior exactly like this, and the boy needed discipline and security more than he needed to sit comfortably that night. 

“Is there anything else you want to tell me before I tell you not to speak until you’re spoken to?” Qui-Gon asked. It wasn’t a usual question for him, but something about the way Obi-Wan was keeping a tight hold on his cloak made him ask.

“I love you, Master,” Obi-Wan said, his voice breaking slightly over the words. 

Force, but spanking this brave, sweet little Jedi was going to be hard! “I love you too,” Qui-Gon said, giving the child a proper hug. “Too much to let you get away with dangerous nonsense. Understood?”

“I understand, Master,” Obi-Wan said. He squeezed Qui-Gon around the waist, and then sought refuge under the wing-like cloak folds of one arm. 

“Very good. Now come along. Let’s get this over with. No speaking until you’re spoken to, until I tell you you’re forgiven.”

The child said, “Yes, Master,” in a very small voice, but he silently and willingly followed Qui-Gon to the door of Ghawar’s office. Qui-Gon tapped on the jamb of the open door, and asked, “Master Ghawar, may we . . . ?” The gym would be empty for cleaning droids for the next thirty minutes or so, and taking care of things here and now would be preferable to making the long trek up to Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan’s apartment.

“Of course, Master Jinn . . . of course. I was just leaving,” said the little saber master. Ghawar picked up some flimsies and a data reader, and then walked to where Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were standing. He tapped the little boy on the nose with a stern fondness and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow. And when I do, I want your behavior to have improved.”

Obi-Wan looked up at his Master, as if uncertain whether he was allowed to answer. “You were spoken to, padawan. What do you say?” Qui-Gon asked.

“Yes, Master Ghawar,” Obi-Wan said dutifully.

“Good boy,” Qui-Gon told him. Ghawar patted the child on the head and exited the room. Obi-Wan sighed and watched him go a little forlornly, as if he’d have preferred to be able to escape with him. 

Qui-Gon was sympathetic, remembering his own boyhood spankings and how much he’d dreaded them. Still, Obi-Wan had to learn his lesson. Qui-Gon palmed the office door shut and sat down in Ghawar’s chair. It was a good chair for correction—sturdy and armless, with a bar joining the lower part of the legs. That gave the unfortunate little penitent something to hold onto while he was over his Master’s lap. 

“Come here, padawan. Right here,” Qui-Gon said, pointing to a spot on the floor just at his right, the way he had during their practice spanking. 

****  
Obi-Wan started to tear up again at his Master’s directions. He didn’t want a spanking! But he knew he deserved one, and his Master had already told him he was still loved and his misbehavior was only a childish mistake. He managed to gain control of himself, and sniffling just a little, took up the place that Qui-Gon had indicated. 

“Very good. Now bare your bottom and bend over my lap. Just the way we practiced.” 

Fighting tears, he undid the drawstring on his pants, and pushed them down to his boot tops. Then he did the same with his underwear. Feeling very exposed and very ashamed, he bent over Qui-Gon’s lap. 

“That’s right,” Qui-Gon assured him, “you’re doing very well.” 

“Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan said wretchedly. 

Qui-Gon then lifted Obi-Wan’s tunic flap and left his bottom bared to the cool air. The little boy’s behind still stung from Docent Lidan’s smacking, and he couldn’t help squirming a little. Force, but he didn’t want to be spanked again!

Instead of just falling to whacking him, however, Qui-Gon rested his broad, warm hand on Obi-Wan’s lower back. “What are you being punished for, padawan?” he asked evenly.

“I disobeyed,” Obi-Wan said miserably, “and I did something that wasn’t safe.” 

Qui-Gon patted his back. “That’s right. And I want you to remember that I will always discipline you for disobedience, and especially for doing unsafe things. This is because I care for you, Obi-Wan. I want to teach you to be responsible, and I don’t want you to be harmed.” 

“Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan said. The kinder Qui-Gon was to him, the sadder he felt. He almost wanted his Master to give him a severe spanking. Almost. 

“You’re going to get a dozen spanks for what you did in saber class today. Do you know how many a dozen is?” Qui-Gon asked.

Obi-Wan knew the answer when he wasn’t upset and his bottom wasn’t in imminent peril. At the moment, however, he simply couldn’t think. “No, Master,” he said.

“It’s twelve,” Qui-Gon reminded him. “Six for disobedience, and six for doing something unsafe. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master,” the boy said miserably. Twelve was a lot of spanks, especially on the bare bottom! He’d gotten six already, and was still sore. 

“All right. Get ready,” Qui-Gon said, sounding more compassionate than stern. 

Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut when he Master’s words, setting loose a new set of tears. He bent forward and gripped his teacher’s leg, for comfort. 

Qui-Gon gave him a pat on the bottom in warning, and then raised his hand. Obi-Wan could feel just about how high he lifted it, given his position over Qui-Gon’s lap. The boy winced in fearful anticipation, having felt through the shifting of Qui-Gon’s uniform that he’d raised his hand to at least shoulder height.

Then SPANK! came the first spank! 

It burned, and Obi-Wan let out a loud yell. Before he could compose himself, the second spank fell, and then the third, all in the same spot in the middle of his smarting behind. Obi-Wan found himself kicking involuntarily. It hurt!

“I’m sorry, Obi-Wan, but you need to learn,” Qui-Gon said, sounding genuinely sympathetic. 

“I’m learning—I’m learning!!” Obi-Wan cried out, as another awful spank smacked down upon his bottom. At least this one was a little lower than the first three, for all that it was in the spot that Obi-Wan would eventually have to sit on. 

“I know,” Qui-Gon said, almost fondly. “You’ll learn this lesson and you’ll be a better little Jedi.” 

Another spank smacked down, and another—both again on his sit spot. Obi-Wan howled, his boots beating an irregular tattoo on the floor. 

Mercifully, Qui-Gon stopped then. “That was for your disobedience,” he said. “Think about that for a moment.” 

Obi-Wan cried helplessly, his toes still rhythmically striking the floor. “Yes, Master! I’m sorry, Master! I’m sorry I disobeyed!” he sobbed out. 

“It’s right that you be sorry,” Qui-Gon said, smoothing back Obi-Wan’s short, spiky hair. “Remember, I require your obedience in order to keep you safe. When you’re a little older and we’re in the field, I need to know that you will obey every command I give you. That’s why I’m so strict with my discipline now.”

“Yes, Master! I’m so sorrrrryyyy!!” the little boy wailed, struggling with all that was in him not to grab his bottom with both hands and rub. 

As if he understood the struggle Obi-Wan was going through, Qui-Gon caught the child around the waist and held him close, leaving his arm and elbow in the way of the boy’s hands, in case Obi-Wan thought he was going to be allowed to cup his sore bottom. “Now,” Qui-Gon said, “you’re going to get six spanks for doing something dangerous. This is to teach you not to play with lightabers, even practice ones.”

“I know they’re not toys, Master!” Obi-Wan protested. He didn’t want any more spanks! He was so sore as it was! 

“That’s backtalk, padawan. It’s not allowed,” Qui-Gon reminded him sternly. 

“No, Master! I mean, yes, Master!” the little boy cried. 

“I’ll give you two extra spanks if I have to remind you again,” Qui-Gon warned him. 

“Yes. Master!” The boy cried out. He didn’t want that! He swore to himself that he was going to keep his mouth closed. 

Qui-Gon raised his hand and brought it down sharply, smacking Obi-Wan’s bottom again. This time it overlapped both the spots that had been spanked before, and Obi-Wan squirmed furiously over his lap, trying to get his behind out of the line of fire. “Owwwww!!” The child wailed, then clapped his hands over his mouth, as he realized he’d called out without being spoken to.

“You can say ‘Ouch’ and you can cry,” Qui-Gon reminded him. 

Obi-Wan made a wordless, unhappy sound through his hands. He was glad he was allowed to cry out a little bit. He didn’t see how he was going to make it through the rest of this spanking without it. Then the Master Jedi planted a fierce set of spanks on the same tender spot. Obi-Wan wailed, his feet kicking against the floor. He drew breath to cry out that he was sorry again, but covered his mouth with his hands once more. Anything to keep from speaking out of turn again and earning an extra two spanks! 

“Three more to go for doing something dangerous, Obi-Wan. Almost done,” Qui-Gon assured him. 

“Yes, Master!” Obi-Wan exclaimed, saying the only thing he was sure he’d be allowed to say. 

Qui-Gon’s hand descended again, smacking the tops of Obi-Wan’s thighs this time. The three spanks came in red-hot succession, making Obi-Wan yelp and kick. Once they were over, the little boy collapsed against his Master’s lap, crying fiercely. 

“There, now,” Qui-Gon said, rubbing his back. “All over. It’s all right to cry.” 

The child sobbed half-hysterically once he’d been given permission. His bottom hurt so much . . . why had he thought it was a good idea to misbehave so badly? 

Qui-Gon gently eased him up and turned him right-way-up on his lap, just as they’d practiced. Obi-Wan desperately wanted to rub his sore bottom, but threw his arms around his Master instead, twisting his little fists into Qui-Gon’s tunic. “Shh,” Qui-Gon soothed. “It’s over now. You did very well.”

Obi-Wan continued to cry, kicking his booted feet up and down. His bottom hurt terribly, and it was so hard not to rub! Qui-Gon engulfed him in a hug, and told him, “You were very brave, and very obedient, little one. I’m proud of you.” 

For some reason this just made Obi-Wan cry harder. He wanted to be good for his Master. He wanted it so much! It hurt him inside to know that his actions had caused Qui-Gon any disappointment. 

“There, there, there . . .” Qui-Gon soothed, rocking him in his arms. 

Obi-Wan finally cried himself out, and then Qui-Gon said, “All right, padawan. Corner time.”

Obi-Wan started to groan in unhappiness, but then clapped his hand over his mouth again. “I mean, yes, Master!” he said. Anything to avoid another two spanks!

“Good boy. ‘Yes, Master’ is the right response. Come on now . . . pull your pants and underwear up.” 

Obi wan slid off his Master’s lap and obeyed, wincing a little as he pulled his clothing up over his very sore behind. 

Once he was dressed again, Qui-Gon led him over to an empty corner, and then pointed at the place where the walls joined. “Nose in the corner,” he said, “You’re to think about how you’re going to behave better next time.” 

“Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan said obediently, and stepped up to his corner placement.

****

Qui-Gon patted the little boy on the head as he took his place in the corner. Obi-Wan had taken what for him must have been an awful spanking, and yet was still willing to obey. That left Qui-Gon feeling so fond of his padawan that he simply wanted to pick him up and hold him, and yet that would not do. The boy needed some time to calm down and think about his behavior, and especially about how he was going to amend it in the future.  
The Master Jedi stepped away and took a seat in Master Ghawar’s chair. He let Obi-Wan think for about seven minutes, one minute for every year of his age. Any longer and the poor, upset little fellow’s mind would doubtless start to wander. “You may turn around, Padawan,” he said finally. 

The boy turned around, his arms still wrapped around his chest. The poor child’s eyes were red and swollen, and he looked just about ready to burst into tears again at any moment. Qui-Gon couldn’t help but hold his arms out to him. “Come here, little one,” he said fondly. 

Obi-Wan ran to him and hugged him tight. “I’m sorry!” he half-wailed. 

Qui-Gon patted him on the back and said, “I know, padawan. Now. Tell me, next time you feel like using a practice saber as a toy, what will you do?”

“I won’t do it,” Obi-Wan said promptly. “I’ll never, ever, ever do it again.”

“And the next time you feel the desire to disobey me or one of your other teachers?”

“I’ll remember how much I hate to be spanked, and I won’t do that either,” Obi wan said.

Perhaps his answers didn’t show much insight into his misbehavior, but for someone seven years old who was obviously very sorry, Qui-Gon judged that it was good enough. 

“I’m glad to hear it, padawan. Punishment’s over. You’re forgiven. You may speak freely,” he said.  
“Thank you, Master!” the little boy said, burying his head into Qui-Gon’s chest. 

Qui-Gon hugged the boy tightly until he felt Obi-Wan’s hold on him begin to slacken. He then released him, and kissed him on the forehead. “You were very brave,” Qui-Gon told him. “I wish it didn’t have to hurt so much, but next time, you’ll remember, won’t you?”

“Yes, Master!” Obi-Wan said. His blue-green eyes were very serious. 

“Good boy. Now, this ought to be your playtime, and you’ve lost too much of it to punishment. I don’t want to take up any more. Shall we go outside?” Qui-Gon asked. Obi-Wan usually played outside during the hour or two between saber class and dinner time, but the boy didn’t always have his Master at his side. 

The child’s excitement over being played with was a touch hearbreaking, given how hard he’d been crying just a few minutes ago. “Yes, Master! Let’s go, Master!” he said. 

Qui-Gon fondly took his hand and led him out toward the doors leading to the playground. 

 

\--End--


End file.
